Surprise
by I-am-the-survivor
Summary: Sherlock and Watson have a case to solve but Sherlock has a little secret up his sleeve


**I've been wanting to get some Chrismas fics out for some of my favorite ships for a while! I finally have the laptop and the downtime to do so. So here's the first one. Enjoy!**

A loud bang from downstairs startles her awake at nearly seven in the morning. Honestly she should be used to these sorts of interruptions by now. His creative ways of waking her extend nearly every day. Joan flips the blanket over her face waiting for the inevitable second bang or the sound of feet clamouring up the stairs recklessly. It's a wonder they haven't got evicted yet honestly.

Sure enough she hears the sound of feet pounding up the stairs before Sherlock bursts ceremoniously through the door. She peers out from under the covers mentally making a note to buy darker curtains so the mornings weren't so… bright.

"Tis the season Watson. We've got a double homicide on our fingers." He steps to her closet digging through her clothes giving herself time to analyze him. He was wearing a Christmas sweater that was absolutely horrendous. Over the past few years she had broken him of the habit of wearing t-shirts that made him look like an overgrown frat boy in trade for nicer, button up shirts. She had thought she had hidden all of his sweaters as well. Apparently she was wrong.

He trots up to her bed dumping a pile of clothes at her feet. He's bouncing on his toes in a way that tells her that he had been up for a while probably at least three cups of coffee in.

"I've got a to go cup of black coffee waiting on the table when you're dressed." He answers before she even parts her lips. He spins on his heels sweeping out of the room as flourishly as he had come in. She sighs flipping her covers off of her body. It was going to be a long day.

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Joan runs her fingers furiously together trying to summon some warmth to the tips. They had been out here for nearly twenty minutes now trying to piece together the events of the murder. They were deep into the woods on a jogging trail. One victim lay at her feet, limbs spread gracelessly. It was a woman bundled up for a jog, her hair tied up and her phone lying idle just out of reach of the victim's frozen fingers. Crimson stained the center of her white Northface. The other victim lays face first in the snow not far away. A man in a business suit, three red spots scattered on his back.

"It was likely that the woman was the intended target. Shot point blank in the chest. While the man stumbled upon the scene. He tried to make a break for it and…" Well it didn't work out apparently. She sighs.

"That doesn't point us towards a killer or a reason for Mr. Ramos to be out in the middle of the woods." Sherlock groans pinching the bridge of his nose. He showed no signs of even being affected by the cold except for the red tinge in his cheeks.

"Maybe he was meeting Ms. Nolan out here?" She suggests tiredly. She hadn't had time to even finish her coffee before Sherlock had whisked her out the door to be called to the crime scene. She presses her palms into her eyes before stretching her legs out. "Well I'm going to go get warm. We're not getting anywhere just standing here in the cold." She states. She can hear his begrudging footsteps behind her.

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She had been staring at the files for the past two hours trying to see things that she already hadn't. She can hear Sherlock pacing a trench into the floors behind her. She had no idea why he was so anxious. Sure she had seen him nervous before but this was different, almost frantic.

She pulls off her glasses with a sigh taking another grateful sip of the coffee sitting in the middle of her stack of files. As far as she can tell Ms. Nolan's boyfriend is their best suspect. They have him sitting in the interrogation room now, no alibi and plenty of motive. The poor girl had broken up with him just days before Christmas after he had dropped thousands on the perfect engagement ring.

Yet they had no information to pinpoint him in the forest at the time of death. As far as recorded he didn't have a license to own a gun and it had been snowing too substantially that morning to even get a clear footprint. If only they could find the smallest amount of evidence...

"Watson." A soft voice startles her awake. She glances at the clock numbly not even realizing she had fallen asleep. The files were cleaned up and neatly stored in a box.

"When did I fall asleep?" She mutters looking up at Sherlock who was looming over her, her coat slung over his arm.

"Nearly three hours ago." He sighs. "Come, we're going home."

"Did you figure anything out?"

"No, Marcus is sending us home before the roads get too rough to drive. We're getting hit by a nasty blizzard." She nods numbly allowing him to assist her put her coat on. He swipes up her glasses storing them safely in his pocket and leads her out the door. It's not even a few minutes into the taxi ride on their way home before she falls asleep again with her forehead pressed against the cool window. She pretends she doesn't feel it as Sherlock settles his coat over her frame as she shivers.

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The not so gentle stop of the car is what startles her awake next. Sherlock grumbles as he passes the man his money for the ride. She's no longer covered in his coat, she notices trying to ignore the small ache of disappointment in her chest. She swings herself out of the car hearing Sherlock jog up behind her.

The sight of the house as she steps inside is enough to jolt her awake completely. The entire house is absolutely decked out in Christmas decorations. There's even a tree sitting up completely decorated in beautiful sparkling ornaments.

"Surprise." Sherlock whispers from behind her. She can almost hear the pride in his tone.

"How did you-"

"I had some help from Ms. Hudson and Alfredo. While we were out solving our case they were here," He says making vague gestures to the room. "Making this happen."

"I didn't say anything about-"

"Not to me." Sherlock shrugs. "I overheard you on the telephone lamenting to your mother that our busy schedules kept us from even putting up a tree this year." She wasn't sure whether she should chastise him for eavesdropping again or hug him for his thoughtfulness. These times were rare but when they happened they truly blew her away. She tips her head back letting out a small laugh before she spies a sprig hanging carefully above their heads.

"I think your plan may have backfired a bit." She says lightly pointing above them.

Immediately Sherlock's face flushes as he spies the mistletoe. "I assure you this wasn't my idea. They were only supposed to use what I provided. I swear I don't know where that thing even came from. The mere idea is outrageous that a plant should dic-"

She silences him with a quick press of her lips against his. His muscles draw taut in a mix of shock and hesitance. She pulls away before he can even react. "I know." She whispers with a smile. "Thank you."

He lets out a breath bouncing twice, almost decisively before his hands cup her face pulling her lips to his once more. This one's different, more passionate. Her fingers lace in her hair pulling him closer to her. She only pulls away when a sudden thought occurs to her.

"Wait so the case?"

"Already solved. I may have hidden the bit of information from you where they had found the gun in the boyfriend's closet with a bloody coat." She smacks his arm and shivers as wind gushes through the open door behind them. "Let's go get a fire started shall we?" He smiles and she lets out a small laugh.

"Hey Sherlock?" She calls out while he's setting up the fire.

"Hm?" He glances over his shoulder looking at her.

"Thank you."


End file.
